


The Scent of Blood

by spowell Count Dracula series (SPowell)



Series: Count Dracula [37]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Blood Lust, Centaurs, F/F, F/M, M/M, Mind Control, Multi, Punishment, Vampires, Werewolves, blood-drinking, blood-sucking, dark!fic, dub-con, enslavement, evil!Merlin, non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-29
Updated: 2014-12-29
Packaged: 2018-03-04 03:04:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2906936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SPowell/pseuds/spowell%20Count%20Dracula%20series
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur asserts his power. Something fascinating in the woods. Mordred thirsts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Scent of Blood

“You are angry with me,” Dracula said when he came to their bedroom a short time later. Arthur lay beneath the silk sheets, fresh from bathing.

“What makes you say that?” Arthur asked dully.

The Count moved to sit on the edge of the bed. “I think you did not like being displayed like that at dinner.”

Arthur glanced at the Count, feeling bold. “I didn’t think you cared what I liked and did not like.”

Dracula looked away, his eyes roaming over the tapestries on the walls.

“I did not expect this change in our relationship, A Mea.”

“What do you mean?” Arthur watched the emotion playing over Dracula’s face.

“I—I told you before that I do not really know what it is to have a blood-mate. No one does. It was something spoken of over the ages, but there are no writings of the experience. I’ve always known you were out there, but how would it be between us? You are not my pet, you are not my slave, you are my _mate_ ; still I do not know how to treat you. Every day you are with me, I love you more. I cannot allow what I feel for you to weaken me, as Leander accuses. Tonight I struck my claim to you yet again, this time for my family to see. All those who sat at the table now know without a doubt that you are mine—they saw it not only in the way I marked you, but in the way you responded to me. I thought it possible someone might challenge me for you, but after tonight I do not think it will happen.”

“Bianca said you might weaken,” Arthur told the Count, sitting up in the bed so that the sheets fell from his chest and pooled around his waist. “It angered me that she said it.”

“I know. She admitted as much to Cezar, perhaps afraid that you would seek punishment for it. You have every right to punish her for it, as do I, A Mea.”

Arthur reached out and touched Dracula’s shoulder. “I don’t want to punish her.”

“It might be best if you do. Cezar might choose to do it, and it would be better to show yourself strong in your own right.”

“What are you suggesting? That I whip her?” Arthur found the thought abhorrent.

“That is one option. You may apply some pain—nipple clamps, perhaps. She is used to that type of punishment, and it would be easier on her than whatever Cezar might come up with.”

“I’ll think about it.”

Dracula leaned closer to Arthur, lips brushing his. “Do so, A Mea. You are mine, but no one else has a right to do or say anything to you that you do not like. Punish the girl. She is a concubine and a human—she should know her place.”

He kissed Arthur, running the fingers of his left hand over Arthur’s bare chest.

“I am thirsty, my Dove.” Dracula removed the sheet from Arthur’s lower body, exposing his half-hard cock and his balls sac. He moved in between Arthur’s legs, and Arthur leaned back, breathing in deeply as the Count settled down and pressed fervent kisses to Arthur’s thigh. Dracula looked up at Arthur, parting his plump lips to expose two gleaming fangs on each side of his mouth. Arthur’s cock jerked just before Dracula sank those fangs into its underside, sucking in blood.

Throwing his head back, Arthur cried out, pushing upward into the bite, fingers moving to tangle in Dracula’s thick hair. Arthur could hear Dracula swallowing, feel his thumbs stroking Arthur’s inner thighs. Arthur shook as though in a high wind, pre-cum pooling on his belly from his hardened cock.

Arthur’s muscles slowly went lax as sweet euphoria spread over him. The draining went on and on, and Arthur floated on a cloud of pure bliss. When Dracula finally had his fill, he moved to lie beside Arthur, carefully cutting a line on his pectoral with his small knife so that Arthur could drink.

Arthur fell asleep, head pillowed on Dracula’s chest, the taste of his lover’s blood in his mouth.

***

The following day at breakfast, deciding that Dracula was right that Arthur should make a move to punish Bianca before Cezar did it for him, Arthur produced a pair of nipple clamps he got from Morgana and announced that he would attach them to Bianca for two days as punishment for insulting his blood-mate.

Bianca obediently got up from her seat and came around to where Arthur stood. She lowered the bodice of her gown, revealing her large, round breasts, and, as the others looked on, Arthur carefully pinched a rosy nipple between finger and thumb and secured the clamp to it, tightening it until Bianca winced and cried out. He did the same with the other.

“At sundown in two days’ time, I will remove the clamps,” Arthur said. “Let it be known that I will not have anyone insulting my blood-mate in my presence.”

“Thank you for my punishment, m’lord,” Bianca said with a curtsey. She returned to her seat, fixing her gown back to cover her clamped breasts.

“Well done,” Dracula said later before pressing a kiss to Arthur’s lips. “I will be in meetings for the rest of the morning. I will see you at the next meal, my Love.”

Arthur went to the library and immersed himself in reading. After a time, when he got the odd sense that he was being watched, he looked up to find the boy Mordred staring at him from the doorway.

“Hello, Mordred.”

“Hello.”

Arthur regarded the boy, remembering that the Count had told him to be careful around him.

“Is there something I can help you with?”

“You smell good,” Mordred said, pink tongue coming out to run over his bottom lip.

“You should not come any closer, Mordred,” Arthur told him.

Mordred continued to watch Arthur with wide, blue eyes that were disconcerting in their unwavering gaze.

Finally, the boy turned and walked away. Arthur let out a sigh of relief and went back to his reading.

When the meeting lasted longer than the midnight meal, Arthur found himself restless. Without the Count’s presence, he grew bored. He decided to walk outside, and grabbed his cloak from the foyer.

Arthur found that lately he did not get as cold as he used to, as though his blood had warmed and now kept his body at a higher temperature. As he walked on the grounds, he hardly noticed the cold wind blowing or the snow settling in his hair. Arthur stood at the gates, watching the edge of the forest, picking out all manner of birds and trying to identify them from what he remembered of the book he’d been looking at earlier. Birdwatching had once been a favourite past-time of Arthur’s, and Romania had several species of bird that he found fascinating in their singularity, such as the Bee Eater with its beautiful turquoise breast, and the Caspian Tern.

A movement along the tree-line to Arthur’s left caught his attention and he turned to see a deer—no a horse…but it wasn’t a horse, it was a man with a horse’s body!

A centaur. Arthur stared in amazement at the creature as it stood picking berries off a tree.

The temptation to move closer was strong, but Arthur remembered the Count’s admonition to stay away from the forest. He remained and watched the creature for a long time, however, until it galloped away into the woods.

“I’m sorry I was not with you much today, A Mea,” the Count said when they lay together that night, Arthur impaled on Dracula’s long cock and Dracula’s hands running possessively over Arthur’s chest, belly, and thighs. “There has been talk of another tribe in the area.”

Arthur pushed down into the Count’s next thrust.

“Enemies?” he asked between gasps.

“Perhaps. But I do…” Dracula’s breath caught as Arthur rolled his hips, “…do not want you to worry about it.”

Arthur quickly forgot about the other tribe and any worries they might incite as Dracula increased the speed of his thrusts, tipping Arthur over the edge.

The breakfast after the next, when Arthur entered the dining room, Bianca stood by his seat waiting.

Everyone else was already drinking, some eating some not.

“I have worn the clamps for two days as directed,” Bianca said in a quiet, strained voice. “My hope is that Lord Dracula’s mate will see fit to remove them today.”

Arthur nodded, and Bianca lowered her gown. The area around her nipples was red, and Arthur imagined they must be incredibly sore. He had not meant to fasten them so tightly. He hastened to remove the right nipple clamp. When it came free, Bianca cried out as blood rushed back to her aching flesh. Arthur reached to remove the second clamp, and when he did, a small trickle of blood oozed from the freed nipple, making its way down the plump curve of Bianca’s breast.

At the smell of fresh blood, all heads turned, as though the group where wild dogs and Bianca a fresh piece of meat they scented. Arthur looked about in surprise, the aroma from the blood pleasing but not particularly tempting to him. Before anyone knew what was happening, a chair overturned and Mordred leaped across the table at the girl, knocking dishes to the floor as he pounced upon her, sinking his fangs deeply into her breast.

 


End file.
